Memories of Things Past
by Aeon65
Summary: Horatio receives a package that dredges up some old memories. Implied slash.


Title: Memories of Things Past

Author: Aeon Cole

Rating: G

Genre: Angst

Warning: Implied slash

Fandom: CSI Miami

Pairing: Horatio/Speed

Table: #5 Light

Prompt: #8 together

Summary: Horatio receives a package that dredges up some old memories.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. I merely borrow them from time to time and promise to return them unharmed when I'm done.

Tim stood back and watched from a distance. Horatio sat on the beach with the waves just licking the toes of his dress shoes. His knees were pulled up to his chest and his arms were wrapped tightly around them. His mind was a million miles away. Well, 1280 miles and twenty years away, to be exact.

earlier that afternoon

Horatio was working in the trace lab when he was paged him to the lobby. A delivery man had just dropped off a package addressed to Lt. Horatio Caine, Miami-Dade Crime Lab. Horatio examined the large box. The return address was Monsignor Patrick Maloney, New York Archdiocese. He recognized the name of his parish priest from New York, when he was a kid.

He carried the box back to his office, curious about its contents. It was heavy and he could feel some things shifting around inside as he carried it. He placed the box on his desk and pulled the tape that was holding it shut off. He opened the box flaps and right on top he found a note.

_Dear Horatio,_

_I've kept these things safe for you for the past twenty years. I think it's time that I turn them over to you. Do what you want with them._

_Father Pat_

Horatio's heart was pounding. Twenty years ago was when his parents had died. He usually tried not to think of that time in his life but the sudden reminder sent memories flooding back to the forefront of his mind. He closed his eyes and images from that day flashed in front of him; his mother lying on the floor in a pool of blood, the look on his father's face as he'd shot him.

He quickly shook his head to clear it then he walked over and locked his office door. He didn't want anyone walking in on him right now, not even Tim. He took a deep breath and began pulling the newspaper packing out of the box.

Again his mind flashed back twenty years and he remembered having told Father Pat that he didn't want to go back to his parents apartment to clean it out. He'd told him that there was nothing there but bad memories and he wasn't interested in any of it. He vaguely remembered telling the priest to donate everything to the church. He had arranged for a transfer to the Manhattan precinct. He'd walked away and had never returned to his old neighborhood.

Horatio pulled the last of the packing out of the box and peered inside. There were several items wrapped in newspaper, some old photo albums, and a few old toys. He reached in and pulled out an old worn baseball glove. He turned it over a few times then gently ran his hand over the leather. A sad smile graced his face.

Baseball had always been his escape as a kid. It was something he was good at and something that he really enjoyed. When he was playing he could almost forget about how bad his home life was. He sighed and placed the glove aside thinking that ultimately his father had ruined even that when he'd caused Horatio to break his collarbone.

He reached into the box again and pulled out one of the wrapped items. It felt like a picture frame. He unwrapped it to reveal an old family portrait. He estimated it to be from around 1965. Ray looked to be about two or three years old, which would have put Horatio at around eight or nine. In the picture his mother was sitting in an old armchair, his father stood behind her, Ray sat on her lap and Horatio stood next to her.

He tried to remember the day the picture was taken but it was so long ago that he could only manage a fuzzy recollection and a feeling of unease. He closed his eyes, trying to bring the memory up. Suddenly he had a flash of pain and darkness and the reason for his uneasy feeling came flooding back.

His father hadn't wanted to be bothered with the family portrait but his mother had insisted that they needed a picture of the whole family together. His father had acquiesced, and they'd all walked down to a local photographer for the picture. The whole thing had left his father in a bad mood. When they'd arrived back home, Horatio remembered, he'd gotten into an argument with is brother over something stupid, just normal sibling rivalry stuff. This enraged his father and earned him a beating and several hours locked in a dark closet.

As he placed the photo down on his desk he noticed that his hands were shaking. He took a moment to calm himself. He opened and closed his hands a few times until the shaking stopped. After taking another deep breath, he reached into the box. He moved a few old Hot Wheels cars to the side, probably collector's items by now, and pulled out the contents at the bottom.

He recognized an old photo album. There was a stack of old school report cards and school photos. Then there was a folder with no markings on the outside. He set all of the other items aside and examined the folder. There was nothing remarkable about it from the outside other than that it looked old. He opened it up and stared at the contents. He remained frozen in place for a long while just staring. A single tear ran down his cheek.

He quickly closed the folder and, leaving all of the contents of the box laying on his desk, he left his office. He headed for the one place he knew he could go to clear his mind, the beach.

A short while later, Calliegh walked into the break room and found Tim. "Hey, do you know what up with Horatio?" she asked.

Tim looked at her, confused. "What are you talking about?"

She shrugged. "He was up in his office with the door locked then I just saw him bolt out of here. He looked upset about something."

Tim immediately pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial for Horatio. The phone rang a few times then went to voicemail. Tim hung up. "That's strange," he muttered. He looked up at Calliegh. "You said he was in his office, right?"

Calliegh nodded. "Maybe we should go look," she said.

They both got up and headed for Horatio's office. Tim opened the office door and peered inside. The lights were out and the office was empty. He flipped the light switch and the two of them entered. Tim noticed the box and walked over to Horatio's desk. He saw Horatio's suit jacket hanging over the back of the chair and figured that he must have left in a big hurry to have left that behind.

He picked up the baseball glove then the picture. Calliegh came up next to him and looked at the picture. She guessed that it was a picture of Horatio and his family. The little boy with the bright red hair was unmistakably Horatio.

"Mmm," Calliegh said. Tim looked sideways at her questioningly. "They're not smiling. Usually in a family portrait, the people are smiling." She thought about what Horatio had told her about his father as she looked at the picture. She looked over at Tim and said, "He told me." She hesitated for a moment then added, "About his father, I mean."

Tim nodded. He was starting to get worried. He knew how Horatio got when old memories got dredged up like this. His eyes scanned the desk and found the note. He picked it up and read it then muttered a curse under his breath. He recognized the name of the priest that Horatio had confessed to after he'd shot his father, the one who had told the young Horatio that he'd committed a mortal sin.

He looked over and saw Calliegh pick up a folder. She opened it and gasped. "Oh my God," she said. She held the file open for Tim. He flushed with anger. It was a copy of the case file from Horatio's mother's murder, with photos of the crime scene and everything. Calliegh quickly scanned the file and learned that Horatio had been the one to find his mother's body then shoot and kill his father in self defense.

"Why would he send this to Horatio now?" Tim asked.

"I don't know," Calliegh said. "Maybe it was just packed away with all of this stuff and he didn't know it was there. The papers are all yellowed and the folder looks old." She picked up some of the newspaper packing and smoothed it out. "Look at the date," she said. "This box was packed up in 1980."

"I hope you're right," Tim said.

He picked up the photo album and started flipping through it. He couldn't help smiling at some of the pictures. One in particular was a shot of baby Horatio lying on his stomach on a blanket looking up at the camera, stark naked.

He showed the picture to Calliegh and said, "I think every parent has this picture." Calliegh blushed. Tim sighed. "I'd better go find him," he said.

Tim repacked everything into the box and set it aside. He grabbed Horatio's suit jacket before he and Calliegh left the office. Tim headed out to the parking lot. He knew where his lover would be. He hopped on his bike and drove toward the beach.

He found Horatio's car fairly quickly and parked his bike next to it. He spotted Horatio by the shore. He stood and watched him for a few minutes before heading out onto the sand. He noticed a slight shiver run through Horatio's body as he sat in front of the water. He approached quietly and draped the jacket over Horatio's shoulders.

Horatio startled at the contact. Tim leaned down and whispered in his ear, "It's all right. It's just me." He sat down next to him and scooted close. "I saw what Father Pat sent you," Tim said quietly. He put his arm around Horatio and pulled him closer. Horatio rested his head on Tim's shoulder. As Tim looked at him he noticed that Horatio's face was damp. He'd been crying. "You okay?" Tim asked.

Horatio signed and wiped his face. "I am now," he said and snuggled a bit more into Tim's shoulder. "Sorry I ran off."

Tim smiled and pulled him a little closer. They sat together in silence and watched the sunset. After a while Tim said, "I packed everything back into the box before I left your office."

"Thanks," Horatio replied.

"If you want, we can go through it together, decide what to keep, what to get rid of," he offered.

Horatio didn't answer right away then finally he said, "I didn't want any of that stuff twenty years ago. I don't want it now."

Somehow that statement made Tim sad. Horatio had nothing from his childhood, no mementos. Tim kept several photo albums, some old toys, even his favorite teddy bear. They were all packed away in a box in the attic, but he kept them.

"Come on," Tim said. "Not even your old baseball glove? And what about your baby pictures?" Horatio raised his head and gave Tim a surprised look. Tim smirked. "I looked through the photo album," he said. "You were a cute baby."

"Mmm," Horatio muttered. His mother had been an amateur photographer. She'd taken a lot of pictures of Horatio and Ray when they were little.

"There's one in particular," Tim continued with a smirk. "One picture of you. You couldn't be more than six months old, lying on a blanket…"

"Oh God, don't tell me," Horatio said suddenly.

Tim chuckled. "With that cute little behind of yours sticking up in the air. That should have been a clue."

Horatio blushed furiously. "I thought I'd destroyed all of the copies of that picture when I was a teenager."

Tim laughed. "Apparently not," he said. "So what do you say? We'll bring the box home and go through it."

Horatio sighed. "You'll help me?" he asked.

Tim nodded. "We'll do it together."

Fin


End file.
